Twilight Contemplations
by Wolfseer
Summary: Angsty Wendy piece, taking place a few weeks after the conclusion of the novel. Or if you haven't read it, after the recent movie. Wendy attempts to reconcile her feelings for Peter.


Twilight Contemplations 

_by Contrary Merry_

***

_"Do not go gentle into that good night;_

_Rage, rage, against the dying of the light."_

- Dylan Thomas

Twilight was her special time. It wasn't part of day, but the night didn't lay claim to it either. A part of the cycle, yet separate. Like herself.

Privacy was something to be cherished; it always had been, but even more so now, what with the Lost Boys taking up residence. They were everywhere it seemed, always making noise. Wendy really didn't mind, but at the end of the day, she needed a respite from all the clamour.

She had always enjoyed the tranquility of twilight, but had never truly appreciated it before now. So when the house was still (with the exception of the occasional snore), Wendy would creep to the nursery's windowsill, and watch the sky until the last of the light surrendered to the dark. 

She sighed, feeling rather pensive tonight. It was one of those times she wondered about Peter. Was he all right? Did he miss her? Did he even remember her? Despite the fact that he promised to never forget her, she knew what a dreadful memory he had. But that wasn't the only thing that bothered her. The other...she wasn't sure what it even was. Loss? Hurt? Or perhaps she was restless from lack of closure. Wendy wearily massaged her temple. This soul-searching gave her a headache.

"Wendy?" The sleep-filled voice caused her to whirl.

Slightly stood in the doorway blinking at her. "What are you doing up?" He padded across the floor, being careful not to rouse Michael and the twins. He perched on the edge of the cushioned seat, eyes probing hers.

She looked away. "Thinking. What about you?" She was being honest, sort of. She _had _been thinking. It was just harder to be up front with Slightly, he was more intuitive than the rest. Always seeming to know what went on in someone's head. Even if they didn't know it themselves.

He stared at her, weighing the truth of her words. Then he shrugged. "I was thirsty." He froze when Michael mumbled something. After a minute, his deep breathing resumed.

They sat in uncomfortable silence. The large grandfather clock in the study chimed. Nana's claws clicked on the wooden floor. Why did everything always seem impossibly loud when no one spoke? It was unnerving. 

It was Slightly who finally broke it. "S'pose I'll go, then." He got up and walked away, presumably toward the guest room.

Wendy hesitated, then called out in a loud whisper. "Wait."

He paused at the doorway, glancing back at her.

She deliberated, not knowing quite how to phrase her request. Slightly returned to the sill, waiting patiently.

She bit her lower lip. "How long did you live in Neverland?"

The former Lost Boy furrowed his brow. "I dunno, really. Time moves differently. One day could pass there, and it could be weeks here. But I know it must have been a long time."

That was interesting. "How do you know?"

"I was Michael's height when I came to Neverland. Now I'm a wee bit taller 'n you."

Wendy stared at him, a trite baffled. "But I thought...I mean...Peter doesn't...does he?"

Apparently Slightly understood the message in her ramblings. "Of course we age. Nothing can stop it, save some powerful Dark workings. But I think it goes different for Pan. I...it's hard to explain."

She wanted, needed to understand. "Please try."

He measured her with his penetrating gaze. "I'll give it a go. Firstly, don't let Pan's looks fool you. He's older 'n your father, I'd wager. 'M not sure how it works, but I do know that the faeries are involved." He scowled. "This next bit will sound really stupid," he cautioned her. 

Wendy gave him an irritated look. "You can't stop now."

Slightly shook his head. "All right. But don't say I didn't warn you." He inhaled sharply. "Pan _is_ Neverland."

She shivered as a cool breeze sifted through the air. Confused, she tried to clear her head. "You mean...he's _part_ of Neverland."

"No," he insisted. "He _is_ Neverland. They are one and the same. That's why he don't age outwardly. Islands don't wither and die, neither does he." He crossed his legs Indian style and regarded her warily.

"That's impossible. Neverland existed before him."

"Aye, that it did. But it wasn't always the beautiful paradise you saw." Slightly's voice matured as he spoke.  "It used to be a...prison, for lack of a better word. For people like Hook. The baddest of the bad, worst of the worst. See, sometimes the lawmakers of Earth couldn't handle certain criminals. Ones who mess with magic for example. That's what makes them dangerous. Magic isn't meant for humans. Our bodies can't handle it. It makes things go...wrong. So, the faeries exiled them to Neverland. But after the better part of a thousand years, things got a mite out of control. The prisoners didn't want to be there, they wanted Earth where they could rule other people. The faeries were desperate for an answer to the chaos. That's when Tinkerbell happened upon Pan, the boy who never wanted to grow up. It was the ideal solution, see. He gets to spend eternity as a boy, and the island gets a keeper, someone to occupy the pirates attention."

Wendy attempted to digest this. "That doesn't mean he _is _Neverland."

"Don't you remember when Tink 'died' that time? How the sky went black, and the sea nearly upturned the _Jolly Roger_? That was Pan. When he's angry, Neverland is scarier than any pirate. When he's happy – well, you've seen it then." 

She felt numb. "So...even if he wanted to, he can never come back? At least, not permanently?"

Slightly nodded grimly. "Aye." There was a pregnant pause in which it seemed the air was holding its breath.

They both jumped when one of the boys coughed. Awkwardly, Wendy stood up. "We'd best get to bed before anyone finds us. Thank you for telling me all this. It was enlightening."

Before he could open his mouth, she bolted from the nursery.

***

Back in her own room, Wendy lay in her bed, trembling. _It can't all be true, there's no way!_ As much as she denied it, deep down she knew it was true. But she couldn't admit it. Not out loud, at least. The minute she did that, it would be real. And that wasn't acceptable. She'd always told herself Peter would come around eventually. That belief had been a reassurance.

Now she knew it wouldn't happen. Peter was lost to her.

Wendy buried her face in the pillows. It wasn't fair! Granted, she'd always thought that boys as something other than friends were disgusting, but Peter wasn't an ordinary boy. 

Ever since she had been old enough to have serious thoughts, she'd wondered what the mysterious bond was between her parents. What was hidden in the looks her father slipped her mother when he thought no children were watching. How the smallest of touches caused her mother to blush and smile sweetly at her husband.

And now, when she finally figured it out, he was gone.

Wendy Moira Angela Darling was in love with Peter Pan. 

The one person she couldn't have.

***

Just beyond the window, a shadow watched as the girl inside cried herself to sleep.

_Finis_

A/N: I probably won't continue this piece; it was just something I had to get out of my mind. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
